


Hidden Angels

by Bulmaveg_Otaku



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Alexander Peirce, Brock Rumlow - Fandom, Captain America (Movies), Darcy Lewis - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Prompts by Caiti, Thor (Movies), Winter Soldier - Fandom, skye - Fandom
Genre: BAMF Darcy Lewis, Darcyland, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-02-20 02:57:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2412434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bulmaveg_Otaku/pseuds/Bulmaveg_Otaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy and Skye are on the run, trying to hide from Hydra, but even this formidable duo can't out run their past forever. Definite AU</p><p>Prompt picked up from Caiti's (Caitriona_3) Stories Needed #14. I was going to make it a one shot, but its kind of run away with its self.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caitriona_3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitriona_3/gifts).



> Thanks go to Caiti for all the inspiration and great ideas.  
> Rating for later chapters.

Hidden Angels

Alexander Peirce had had many years of experience in which he had carefully and meticulously cultivated his patience. He was a man who was the master of all he surveyed, a man of supreme confidence who could see all angles of a set of circumstances and who had no trouble making the hard calls. Both in the field and around the conference table he was a man to be reckoned with.  
He was not used to feeling… frustrated.  
For almost a year he had felt all his careful control slipping through his fingers like so much dandelion fluff in the wind. There were reasons why all his best agents were the people that avoided emotional attachments. Emotions had only ever caused unnecessary complications.  
He sat in the ergonomically supportive leather office chair and sipped single malt while he looked over the proposed agenda for the World Security Council meeting for the next day when his phone rang. He ignored the jump in his heart-rate and picked the phone up slowly. With a swipe of his thumb and a confirmation of his fingerprint, he activated the connection.  
“Yes?” he asked, keeping his voice perfectly controlled.  
“Sir, we’ve got a location for the girls.”  
“You’re sure?” Pierce asked. This wouldn’t be the first time his people had supposedly found the two whom eluded him only to find them gone without a trace. There was usually some sort of gag or prank or cleverly worded insult left for his men to find. It was childish and petty, and a perfect example of why he was starting to lose his patience for this hunt.  
“We have a confirmed visual ID, sir. It’s them.” The man on the other end of the line sounded as if he, too, was ready to have this distraction over with.  
“We can’t afford to lose them again, Rumlow.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“I want you to take the Asset when you move in.”  
There was a moment of silence before the man responded. “It will take time to get him here, Sir. Are you sure you want us to wait. We risk exposure the longer we wait.”  
“Then I suggest you stay out of sight, wouldn’t you agree?” His air of calm slipped ever so slightly as he found himself having to work not to hiss his words over the secure phone line. His knuckles on the phone were defiantly showing some white.  
“Understood, sir,” Rumlow said smoothly.  
“Good. Send over your coordinates. I’ll make sure the boys downstairs have him on his way in record time.”  
“Right away, sir.”

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

“You remember the good old days when we could afford to buy food that wasn’t pre-packaged and microwave ready?” Darcy asked as she pushed her yellow-not-found-in-nature noodles around the bottom of the small plastic bowl.  
“You love that stuff,” Skye said with a bark of laughter. “Even when we had money it’s all you bought.”  
“Yeah,” she sighed dramatically, “but then it was my choice. Being broke takes all the fun out of eating crap food.”  
“Yeah, well, being broke takes the fun out of a lot of things,” Skye muttered as she watched the encryption algorithm run on her pawn shop bought lap top. “This should have been done hours ago,” she said with obvious impatience. She was feeling her anxiety grow with every passing hour.  
They had been in this motel three days longer than either of them had wanted to be. They’d had to push back their plans twice now because Skye didn’t feel comfortable with the level of access she’d achieved so far. They needed more intel before they made their next move, intel that was taking a ridiculous amount of time to filter through the best laptop they’d been able to afford on short notice.  
“Maybe we should just rob a bank?” Darcy suggested, tossing the rest of her meal in the trash.  
“Right,” Skye laughed again. “That’ll help up keep a low profile. We’d be better off just breaking into the Triskellion and getting my laptop back.”  
“It would probably be faster…” Darcy said with a lifted eyebrow. Skye knew she was kidding, knew she was making jokes to cover the fact that she was just as ready to move on as she was. Still, the mischievous light in Darcy’s eyes gave her pause. It was never a good thing when Darcy looked that way.  
“Whatever you’re thinking,” Skye said, rising to grab a bottle of water from their small stash in the corner, “just forget it. We’ve come too far to blow everything because we’re a little bored.”  
Darcy scoffed. “A little?” she walked to the sink to rinse her fork off. “I feel like my head is ready to roll off my shoulders any second, and my skin is practically crawling.” She rubbed her arms though the long sleeves of her black t-shirt. “It’s not just boredom. I really think we need to change locations. We’ve been in one place too long.”  
“You can’t let the paranoia get to you,” Skye said sympathetically. “We’ve taken every possible precaution. You know that.”  
“It’s not paranoia if they really are out to get you.” The curvy brunette with blue eyes said. “Plus, it’s been taking them less and less time to track us down.” And just like that, Darcy’s soft, teasing demeanor drifted away. “It’s only a matter of time, Skye.”  
“I know, I know,” the curvy brunette with the brown eyes said, turning her eyes back to her frustratingly slow computer screen. “Look, if it’ll make you feel better, once this is finished running, we can go. If you want. I have to wait till this finished running though, before I disconnect it from the wi-fi, otherwise I’ll lose all the progress I’ve made so far and have to start over.”  
Darcy used one finger to pull the curtain away from the window just enough to peak outside. On the roof of the bowling alley across the street there was a suspicious shadow she’d been keeping an eye on. It was late enough now that the sun should be just about right.  
Sure enough, there were two quick lens flares.  
Darcy took a deep breath. Two meant binoculars. Not a scope. So, Hydra was still trying to take them alive. That was good. Two flares also meant Hydra was already here, watching them.  
“You put the tampons under the bathroom sink, right?” Darcy asked casually.  
Skye glanced at her sharply before answering, but her voice was just as level. “Yeah, same place as always. Left hand side, next to the toilet.”  
Darcy nodded slowly and looked at the progress bar on the computer screen. It was only at 78 percent. It had been running for almost an hour. She didn’t want to have to start over, but they might not have a choice. Getting caught was not an option.  
Darcy started running odds and numbers in her head.  
If the program continued to run at its current rate it would take just under 17 minutes to finish.  
They would need at least 5 minutes to execute their escape plan. So, 23 minutes if things went perfectly, which they never did, so call it 25 minutes.  
She checked her watch. It was 7:23. She’d first noticed the shadow this morning when she’d returned from picking up supplies. Call it 9 hours at least. So, if it was Hydra, what where they waiting for? If she had to guess, and she figured she’d better, given the circumstances, she’d say they were waiting for nightfall.  
It was only 20 minutes till sunset.  
That was cutting it way too close for her liking.  
Darcy looked down at the laptop.  
It was now at 79 percent.  
Darcy didn’t think it was going to have time to reach 100.  
“We’ve got at least an hour before this finishes.” Darcy said, her voice easy and light, giving nothing away, but her eyes were on Skye’s. “Wanna watch some Animal Planet?”

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

“You put the tampons under the bathroom sink, right.”  
The two feminine voices poured out of the headphone into Rumlow’s ear. He had another guy listening and recording everything the girls said, but he didn’t always trust others to pay attention to the details. He was keeping an ear on things from the back of their most unmarked non-distinct surveillance van. He was glad he was.  
“Yeah, same place as always. Left hand side, next to the toilet.”  
There was a pause and then he heard. “We’ve got at least an hour before this finishes. Wanna watch some Animal Planet?”  
“Fuck,” he muttered pulling the headphones off and activating his coms. “We’ve been made, people. Looks like we’re going to have to roll early. Is everyone in position?”  
“What? Are you sure?” Some dumbass asked, probably Michaels, the guy on the shotgun mic who was supposed to be recording and paying attention.  
“I’ve been chasing these bitches for over 11 months. I know these girls, and I recognize one of their codes when I hear it. Is the Asset here yet?”  
“Seven minutes,” came the cold precise voice in response.  
“Double time it, soldier. They’re gonna bolt.” Rumlow growled. They were so close. Whoever it was that spooked them was going to pay.  
“Get ready. We’ll breach in eight.”


	2. Chapter 2

There was a reason Darcy and Skye had managed to evade such a highly organized and richly funded organization as Hydra for so long. They had codes. They had exit strategies. They had skills and they knew how to use them.  
As soon as the words ‘Animal Planet’ were out of Darcy’s mouth, Skye was in motion. She closed the laptop and unplugged it. She didn’t hesitate, she didn’t ask questions. She packed up the very few items that were on the “Things we absolutely must have and therefor they warrant the extra 20 seconds it takes to grab them” list.  
Darcy, meantime, had walked deeper into the room, turning on the TV as she walked past. She grabbed her own duffel bag, already ready to go and put on her leather jacket.  
She opened one of the many zipper pockets and removed her special lock opening tools. The inside door that separated their room from the one a joining was already open. She made quick work of the lock on the door on the other side with a quick twist and a shove and then returned her tools to their assigned pocket.  
She went back to their room briefly to gather the assorted weapons stashed in advantageous places around the small space and put them back in their more permanent locations on her person.  
By the time this was done and she was heading back to the adjoining room, Skye was right behind her. It had been 31 seconds.  
Darcy took an extra 7 seconds to re-lock both doors while Skye moved into the bathroom and opened the window. When Darcy joined her, Skye was just dropping her computer bag and her backpack out the window to the alley.  
Darcy counted to 3 and then stuck her head out, looking both ways as quickly as she could and still be able to see enough to be useful. So far, the alley way was quiet and cast in deep shadows. The sun might not have been all the way down yet, but this narrow space between two tall buildings was plenty dark.  
She have Skye the sign for wait 10 seconds then follow and then she was tossing her own bag out the window, climbing up onto the sink and shimmying though the narrow opening.  
She pulled the Sig Sauer P250 out of the shoulder holster under her jacket as she stepped around their baggage and put her back to the wall next to a large stack of cardboard boxes and crates.  
She rechecked the alley way, both directions. It was still clear.  
After waiting her 10 seconds, Skye dropped next to her and picked up their things. She waited next to Darcy who nodded and then pointed north.  
It had been 63 seconds.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

“Sir, you were right. I’ve got eyes on the targets. They’re rabbiting out the back, in the alley heading north.”  
“Keep eyes on them. Do not lose them. Hansen, Vasquez, they’re heading your way. Prepare to intercept. Asset?”  
“Five and a half minutes.”  
“We can’t wait. We will not lose them again. You’ll have to catch up. We go now, people. Move.”

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

At the corner of the building Darcy motioned for Skye to duck behind a couple of large size trash bins. Once she was out of sight, Darcy looked around the corner. There was the drive that led around the front of the motel to the parking lot.  
That was a no go. She knew there were Hydra guys across the street to the east, guys with the high ground.  
Straight ahead of them was a solid cinder block building that she remembered was some kind of dollar store or cheap convenience store. The wall was too high to climb, so that left one option.  
She looked west and got a look at the chain link fence that blocked the motel lot off from the loading dock of the large warehouse next door. Access to the street was to the west of that building over a 6’ high cement wall. It was a large building though, taking up most of the block and there was a lot of exposed terrain to cross before they reached that wall and the street beyond.  
The other side of the fence seemed clear, but there were too many places that could easily hide an ambush. Darcy shoved down the feeling of being trapped and whispered for Skye.  
“Toss the stuff over, then I’ll give you a boost,” She said as Skye stepped into view again.  
Darcy grunted quietly under the other girl’s weight and shoved. Skye was over with only a moderate amount of chain link jingling and cursing and the thud of sneakers dropping onto pavement.  
“Come on, your turn,” Skye whispered as she gathered the bags again.  
As she contemplated the best way to scale the fence without having to holster her gun Darcy heard a familiar slither and hiss behind her and tightened her grip on her pistol.  
“Go, Skye. Run.”  
“But…” Skye started to protest, but Darcy cut her off with a look.  
“Now!”  
Skye disappeared into the long shadows of the loading dock just as someone shouted “Hold it,” right behind Darcy.  
“Turn around slowly,” the voice said again and Darcy obeyed.  
There were two of them, both in black-as-night tactical gear and holding twin Colt M4A1 rifles pointed right at her. Their repelling ropes still waved gently against the wall.  
“Evening, boys,” she said with a bright smile. “Nice night for a walk wouldn’t you say?”  
“Drop your weapon,” SWAT wanna-be number one said. Apparently, he was the designated order-giver.  
“Uh, no,” she said, giving them her best horrified expression. “I wouldn’t dream of treating Lady Sig with such disrespect.”  
“Put it on the ground. Now.”  
Darcy would have to give it to wanna-be one. He had threat and menace down to a t. Unfortunately for him, she happened to know they had orders to take her alive.  
“Oooooooooooor,” she said, drawing out the vowel of that one word way longer then was strictly necessary, “you could come get it. This is an expensive piece, you know. I’d hate for it to get all scraped up on the ground.”  
The two Hydra flunkies glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes. She continued to grin at them. She wasn’t pointing her gun at them, simply holding it loosely in her right hand aimed at the ground. She did her best to look as non-threatening as possible.  
Wanna-be one nodded once to wanna-be two. Two stepped forward, his eyes watchful behind his face mask. She held perfectly still as he approached. He paused once he was within arms reach and raised the barrel of his M4A1 to grip the gun under his right elbow so his left hand could reach for her gun.  
He’d been smart enough not to step between her and One. Still, he was close enough that it didn’t matter anymore.  
With a motion swift and ruthless she stepped towards him and thrust the butt of her gun up into his nose. As he started to drop, she aimed over his head and put two rounds into One’s vest.  
She used the seconds he spent staggering to grab Two’s rifle by the forward grip and jerk it from his grasp and toss it away. It wasn’t hard. She wasn’t sure she hadn’t killed him. She shoved him over as she stepped around him and ran at the stunned, but recovering One.  
He raised the rifle towards her again and she knocked it away from her. She landed a right hook to his face and then grabbed his shoulders to force him down as her knee came up.  
He’d been trying to recover from the shots to his chest and stomach, but her knee in his diaphragm left him gasping for air again. She shoved him into the wall and followed with a hard strike of her elbow to the side of his face. Even his tactical helmet wasn’t enough to keep the barrage of blows from knocking him unconscious. He went down hard and she kicked his gun away.  
She secured his wrists behind his back with the dangling end of his repelling rope and then checked on Two. He wasn’t breathing.  
She refused to feel guilty. Instead, she was angry. She was angry at the world, angry at Hydra, and most of all angry at Alexander Peirce for putting her in this position. She turned and holstered her gun so that she could scale the fence and find Skye.  
It had been 184 seconds.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to heat up. More Bamf!Darcy and even some Bamf!Skye, yay!

“Go, Skye. Run.”  
“But…”   
“Now!”  
There were rules. Don’t hesitate and don’t question orders during emergency situations were definitely high up on the list.   
Tightening her grip on Darcy’s bag as she slung it across her chest, Skye turned and ran. It was fine. Darcy could take care of herself and catch up to her. They had rules and they had contingency plans. Even their contingency plans had contingency plans.   
She ran down the length of the large metal-sided building, hugging close to the wall. She passed by rolling bay doors, all at shoulder height, all closed and inaccessible from the outside. She began looking for the best possible place to hide. There were shadows stretched long across the asphalt made by dumpsters, storage containers and the occasional 18-wheeler trailer, left unhitched and abandoned for the night.  
Sky reached the closest of the trailers and slide underneath and past it. Next, she came to an wall of red corrugated steel. The back of it was locked tight. She moved on.  
Just as she reached a second trailer, she heard the two gun shots.   
“Darcy…” she gasped, but forced her feet to keep moving after only a seconds pause where she slowed down to glance over her shoulder. Darcy would be fine. Darcy had to be fine.  
She squeezed between the wall of the building and the trailer. It didn’t have a lock on it, but she wasn’t sure there would be enough room to open the doors far enough for her to slide in. Besides, the handle for the door was almost two feet over her head.   
“No good,” she muttered and shook her head. That’s when she heard the scuff of boots on pavement. It had come from the far side of the trailer, not from behind her. She crouched slowly and pulled the strap of the bag over her head. She moved quietly, pushing the bags away from her into the dark space under the trailer’s back wheel. Then she slid to all fours and crawled next to them.  
From her pocket she pulled out her X2 Defender and maneuvered deeper into the shadows.  
She leaned against a set of wheels and listened, her body tense and ready to spring. As she waited, breath locked tightly behind her lips she could make out the swish of nylon and Kevlar and the faint sounds of creeping feet.  
Skye thought it sounded like at least three guys, possibly more. She waiting, wondering if they would just pass her by, but figuring she wasn’t that lucky.  
The sounds grew closer and then stopped. Skye felt her anxiety skyrocket. She leaned around the tire and took a look. She could make out four pairs of legs. The men were leaning against the trailer and she could see their movement as they made hand signals back and forth.  
Two of them moved around the far end near the trailer’s hitch and disappeared from her sight. There were four of them, and they now had her surrounded.   
Skye exhaled slowly, quietly and then took a deep breath. She crawled to the closest set of legs and raised her Taser. Darcy had insisted she bring it with her when they had left all those months ago, and had shown her how best to use it.   
From this position, however, she couldn’t reach the guys balls. She settled for getting as close as possible and hit him in the back of the knee.   
He jerked and twitched as she nailed him with 15 million volts, his cry of surprise muffled through his clenched teeth.  
“What the…” His buddy jumped back. “Over here!” He called and she figured she had seconds before the other two guys returned. She lay on her stomach and rolled to the other side of the wheels, took aim and fired.   
One of the probes hit his thigh, the other his crotch. She kept her finger on the trigger until he’d collapsed onto his side in a seizing pile of man shaped jelly.  
In less than 10 seconds start to finish, she had two guys on the ground and she was scrambling out from under the trailer to make a run for it, the expended cartridge expelled and tangled on the ground. She sprinted for the next gap, hoping it would be big enough for her and not the other two guys she could hear pursuing her. If she could make it through and they had to go around, she could gain the precious seconds she’d need to put some much needed distance between her and them. She was through the gap seconds later and sliding to a halt as she nearly ran into the waist high cement wall that separated the rest of the lot from a wide cement ramp that rose to meet the corner of the warehouse. She hopped over and sprinted across the ramp, adrenaline spiking in her veins, but her hesitation and surprise had cost her dearly.   
One of the guys was, apparently, small enough to follow her through the gap. His hand caught in her jacket just as she swung her legs over the wall on the far side of the ramp. He jerked her towards him and she went over on her back with a shout.   
He knocked the X2 out of her hand as he pulled her up. She kicked and swung her arms with the feral abandon of a cornered wildcat. She wasn’t as proficient as Darcy when it came to hand to hand, though. No, her skills lay elsewhere, but she knew how to throw a punch.  
As soon as she had her feet on the ground again she spun and struck him solidly across the jaw. His head snapped to the side and she saw blood splatter across his shoulder from the new split at the corner of his mouth, but he didn’t release her.  
Next, she tried her knees. He blocked her shot to his groin, but staggered when her foot came down on his instep.   
“Let go!” She screamed in his face and pushed at his chest, but his arms were now locked around her back in a vice like grip.   
“A little help here,” he grunted, lifting her and turning her so that her back was to his companion, who was charging up the ramp behind them, finally catching up.  
“Hold her still,” the other guy said. She felt his hand on the side of her head, bending it and exposing her neck and shoulder. Skye screamed and thrashed harder. If they wanted her still, she would move in every direction she could manage.   
“You call that still,” the man at her back asked and she could hear him glaring at the man holding her. She could relate. She wished, not for the first time, that she was taller. She wished she could head butt the man, maybe bust his nose and knock a few teeth loose. That would teach him to try and restrain her. As it was, though, her forehead barely met the top of his shoulder, and her attempted flailing was only causing her more pain and discomfort.   
She was determined not to stop though. Not ever. She would fight until she was unconscious or dead.  
That’s when she felt the pick of the needle in her shoulder.  
She cried out and tried to cringe away from the pain, but the sweeping numbness and paralysis was already moving down her arm and across her back.   
That’s when she heard another gun go off.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been 5 minutes since Darcy had said ‘Animal Planet’ when she shot the man holding a syringe to Sky’s neck in the ass. She would have reached Skye sooner, but Darcy had been forced to stop and incapacitate (read: bash and cuff) a couple of guys who were trying to recover from some seriously high voltage being run through their bodies.

Once the guy with the needle was down, she pointed her gun right into the face of the guy holding Skye and gave him her best ‘I will put one between your eyes if I have to’ glare.

“Let her go.” She said, her voice low and menacing.

“Or what? You’ll shoot me? I don’t think so,” the guy said, his grip around the other woman tightening.

Darcy sighed. “Sorry, Skye, looks like you’re going to be cleaning brains out of your hair again,” she aimed down site and tightened her grip on her gun.

“Okay, okay,” the guy said, back pedaling verbally as well as physically. “I’m going to let her go now, just don’t shoot.”

“Good boy.”

Darcy watched as he let his grip relax a little and Skye started to slump in his arms. She cursed under her breath, knowing they’d managed to get at least some of their drug into her, which was going to make things exponentially more difficult for them.

“Great,” she muttered as the guy shoved Skye hard to his right and reached for the Glock on his hip. Darcy shot him in both arms and in one knee before he even had the snap undone on his holster. He screamed and went over, falling against the cement half wall.

Darcy walked forward, her pace measured and her gun never leaving his face, which was distorted in agony.

“You shot me!” He yelled and tried to put a hand over his knee.

“At least it wasn’t your brain, dude,” she said grimly and reached down to remove his weapons. Along with the Glock he had a P90 on a strap, assorted knives and two smoke grenades. She divested him and new butthole man and then used their own cuffs to lock them together, moaning and writhing on the ramp. Lastly, she picked up Skye’s Taser and put in in another of her many pockets. 

Then she turned to Skye.

“You okay?”

Skye moaned and tried to sit up. “They himme with sum’n…” she slurred, one hand pawing at her shoulder weakly.

“Hold still,” Darcy whispered and reached over to pull the needle out. It was long and wicked thin, but the syringe still held a moderate amount of whatever it was they’d tried to give her. She hadn’t gotten a full dose. Which was good.

Darcy just hoped it was good enough.

“All right, Skye, let’s get you up.” Darcy put her arm around her waist and lifted carefully. “You stashed the gear?”

“Yesh,” Skye lisped and waved vaguely back towards where they’d come from, “unner the thingy.”

“Right,” Darcy said, she paused momentarily to jerk the ear piece from New Butthole who was whining and moaning like banshee and put it in her own ear.

“Hansen? Vasquez? Darby? Somebody report! What is going on out there? Does anyone have eyes on the targets?” The voice in her ear was familiar, and its frustration and outrage temporarily brought a smile to her lips.

“We have to get out of here,” Darcy said, knowing there would only be moments before more of Hydra’s goons arrived, she slid the strap of the P90 over Skye’s head and tucked the Glock and grenades into pockets on her jacket.

Looking around quickly, she spotted a door at the top of the ramp. She leaned Skye against the wall as she used her tools to quickly pick the lock. Once open she pulled the drugged woman in side and locked the door behind them.

Rows and rows of shelves staked with boxes and pallets of merchandise stretched down the length of the building as far as she could see. Near the front there was a loft that looked like it housed an office. She could see the stairs on the far right hand wall.

All the while, the voices in her ear made demands and delivered commands.

She went left, half dragging, half carrying Skye, past a row of parked forklifts and chose an aisle at random. Walking as quickly as they could manage, they made their way down the narrow corridor. Darcy’s eyes swept back and forth quickly as she searched for the perfect hiding place.

She’d taken out six guys, from the sound of things there were at least six more.

In her ear the words “Where’s the Asset?” caught her attention, momentarily distracting her in her search.

“Here. I am making a sweep of the target area. Hold position and observe. Report target movement. Otherwise, I recommend radio silence.”

“Copy that.”

It sounded like they were watching the exits then, and was that only one guy they were sending in? She figured she could handle one guy. Then she’s worry about the rest of them.

On the bottom row of shelves about three quarters of the way down Darcy found a dozen or so mattresses, wrapped in thick industrial plastic stacked on their sides. She shoved between two of them, creating a small cavity and helped Skye to climb in.

“Stay here. Keep quiet,” Darcy whispered, pulling out the X2 and placing it into one of Skye’s limp hands. Shifting a tall thin box in front of the small gap, she made sure Sky’s hiding place wasn’t obvious or visible in any way.

Once she was satisfied, Darcy un-holstered her Sig again and walked quickly to the end of the aisle and checked the front of the warehouse. There was no sign of movement. So far. She wasn’t going to hold her breath.

She moved with precision and speed to the bottom of the stairs, and up to the loft, her hand gun held ready in front of her, moving with her eyes across all the exposed spaces and peering into the dark corners. She had the locked office door open in the space between two beats of her level, steady pulse and closed the door softly behind her, relocking it once again. Through an opening, into another space, (she would hardly call them rooms), she moved with stealth to a wall filled with large glass panes that overlooked the maze of shelves and machines and shadows below.

The angle wasn’t right to look down all of the rows, between the tall shelves, but she could see a majority of the paths of approach. She watched them all, her eyes flicking rapidly as she crouched behind the cover of a tall metal filing cabinet. She was confident that she would see anyone within range of her perch.

It was a rookie mistake, really. She was concentrating so much on below that she never even thought to check above her.

The shattering skylight overhead showered her with glass and metal that pricked at her skin and left her with a handful of miner cuts and scrapes and her hair full of brittle slivers. She stumbled back against the wall and raised her weapon towards the intruder.

With a flash of light on silver and gun metal her sig was ripped from her grasp and gone between blinks. She raised her forearms defensively and clutched her fists. The punch that she deflected nearly left her fingers numb and her arms throbbing with a deep ache. She leaped back, twisting away from her attacker and working to keep him off of her long enough to get her balance.

She could see only one, and he was a rather big guy, though not freakishly huge. He raised a leg and planted a kick to her stomach, sending her flying back and crashing through the fragile sheetrock of the partition.

Well, she had wanted some space. She threw her feet up and over her head, rolling onto her hands and knees with the last of her momentum and then straightened into a combat ready crouch. She pulled a knife, holding it firmly in her left hand as her attacker followed her, coming through the hole she’d made with a quick step and a duck.

Darcy lunged forward and slashed with her knife. There was a loud metal on metal screech and she registered what it was she’d seen the light reflecting off of when he’d pulled her gun from her grasp. His entire left arm was encased in some kind of metal sheath.

He reached for her with that arm and his hand on her wrist was too strong, too hard. Her eyes caught the subtle shifting of plates and she was forced to redo her rushed evaluation. His whole arm was metal; he had a mechanical prosthetic of such an advanced make and ability that it had fooled even her keen senses.

That prosthetic was now grinding the bones of her left wrist together. She dropped the knife, catching it in her right hand and swinging it up towards his throat. He jerked away, pulling her off balance, but easing up on her wrist never the less. She swung again, this time burying the point of her blade between the plates of his forearm.

She dug and twisted, snapping the blade with another series of shrill wrenching noises. She tightened her first of the hilt of the broken knife and punched him in the side of the head with all her might. He released her wrist to raise his arm and block her strike, moving as fast as, if not faster than she. He was just full of surprises.

Using her new found freedom, she twisted away. Her chest was actually heaving a bit as she panted and gave her attacker another once over. He gripped the blade protruding from his bionic forearm and wrenched it out, tossing it away dismissively.

She watched him make a fist and release it one finger at a time, testing for functionality, probably. It didn’t look like she’d done any lasting damage, unfortunately for her.

As the guy, (long dark hair, dark half mask, and black leather), stepped towards her again she pulled the Glock she’d confiscated and pointed it right at his face.

He didn’t hesitate and neither did she. Still, he was so fast. He stepped under her shot and then shoved her arm up and away, missing with both rounds she’d managed to squeeze off. She was ready for him this time, though.

Darcy spun away, ducking under his shiny fist, the one headed for her face, and landed a solid hit to his left kidney. She raised the Glock as he turned towards her and shot him once in the right just under his ribs. He grunted and bent slightly around the new hole in his side. His right arm caught her across the face with a brutal backhand that sent her slamming back over a large desk, tumbling, and rolling over the top, scattering papers and stapler and adding machine around her as the floor rushed up to greet her.

“Ow,” she groaned as she pushed onto her hands and knees. Her eyes found him as she struggled to her feet. He looked pissed, as he held his side, and she could see blood pushing out between his fingers, though it was less then she’d hopped. His vest was probably more than just leather then. Well, crap.

He narrowed his eyes and scowled at her, and then he was moving towards her again, hardly slowing down. She turned and ran. She slammed her shoulder against the door to the stairway and heard the squeal as the cheap lock bent and gave and then she was out. She hit the railing and changed course, flying down the stairs three at a time. She didn’t turn to see how close he was. He hadn’t been that far behind her to begin with and the door had definitely lost her ground.

She sprinted down the nearest row, wishing she had her duffle bag full of toys and praying he really wasn’t as fast as she feared he might be.

He was.

There was a hand on the back of her jacket. She grimaced as she was jerked backwards; her teeth clenched to keep from rattling as he swung her to the side and slammed her into the wall. The shelves and items stacked upon them caused a bizarre pattern of pain to blossom up and down her side. It was her own tattoo of agony, and it left her gasping and ridged.

She was used to pain, though. Maybe not so much recently, but it hadn’t been that long ago that she’d slipped away from the life that had shaped her and made her into what she was now. She focused past the pain and turned, curling inside his grip and landing some quick, low jabs to his core. She made sure at least one of them hit near enough to where she’d shot him to leave him flinching away from her. She yanked her jacket from his fist and then stepped back into her assault.

She stayed inside his reach and pummeled his ribs and stomach with her fists and elbows. He practically had to jump backwards to put enough distance between them to get his arms up into a defensible position.

Once he was blocking her hits she changed tactics, kicking at him with the side of her heel. She was aiming for his knee, hoping to put him out of commission, but he saw it coming and stepped with it, so that she merely hit the back of his knee and forced him to kneel momentarily. He used this position to slam his elbow into her back and shove her to the floor onto her stomach.

Darcy rolled away, but he followed, his metal arm grasping her around the thighs and pulling her underneath him. She felt panic threatening to rise and pushed it down as she arched her body and thrust her palm up into his windpipe. Between his mask and the high collar of his gear, she didn’t have enough force to collapse his airway, but it hard enough to get him moving back.

She used her arms and hips to shove him away from her and then got to her feet and ran again. Her pace was slowed by the jolts of pain down her left side, but she managed to make it to the rear of the warehouse before he caught up to her again.

Something, (his fist? A sledge hammer? The state of Texas?), slammed into the back of her head and she toppled forward, fighting to stay conscious under the explosion of pain that was coursing up into her skull and down into her neck and shoulders.

Darcy could taste concrete and dust and blood in her mouth and the sound of her gasping breathes swelled to fill her ears and block out everything else. Her world tilted around her, spinning on an axis unfamiliar as she was lifted and turned. Her back now rested against the cold steal side of a forklift, as he pressed into her front, his hands gripped her upper arms and her toes stretched in vain for purchase.

The eyes before her were like swirling storm clouds, grey or blue, and angry. The pain in her brain spiked as he shook her, once, and then pressed her back into the mast of the forklift. Sound outside the whooshing of air in her head began to filter back in and she could hear words that started, slowly, to make sense.

“…resisting. Just stop.”

She shook her head slightly and tried to raise a leg to knee him or lift a hand to dig into his sides.

He shook her again and this time she did stop struggling. Most that was because the back of her head connected with the lift behind her and a new volley of mortar shells went off against the back of her head.

“Submit.”

Darcy gasped and tried to get a handle on the pain. When she felt his hands on her arms tighten painfully, she bit off a scream and forced out words.

“Enough!” She was nearly choking on the words as she spoke. “I’ll stop… just don’t… sh-shake me again…” she panted.

He grip became less painful and he stilled against her, though the tension in his body refused to relax. Slowly, he lowered her feet back to the concrete and held her tight.

“Turn around,” he said, his voice cold, and only slightly muffled under his mask.

Darcy panted some more and tried to find some way to stall or distract this man from what she knew was coming. Her aching skull wasn’t letting any brilliant thoughts through, apparently. His grip began to tighten again and she started to turn.

“Okay, okay,” she muttered as he forced her to turn faster. In half a blink, her front was pressed into the vertical mast of the forklift and he as pulling her arms behind her. He heard the click and clack of cuffs as he ratcheted them open with one hand while the other held her wrists pinned against the small of her back.

“Usually I make a guy buy me dinner first,” she said with a bitter chuckle. She might be beaten physically, but she wasn’t going to go without making some token retaliation, even if it was petty and weak.

He made no reply as he tightened the metal bands around her bruised and battered wrists.

“Easy, soldier,” she winced, “you should be gentle with a girl the first time.”

“Where is the other girl?” was his only response.

Apparently, it was going to be straight to business.

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m not that into threesomes…”

He spun her around then and she found herself double teamed by dizziness and nausea. It was a fight to stay on her feet.

“Where?” He scowled at her, his cool veneer cracking not at all.

Darcy looked up into his face defiantly and glared. Wondering if her concussion was bad enough to dilate her pupils, she gave him her most stubbornly uncooperative smirk.

“I don’t know who you could possibly be talking about?”

He glared back momentarily before gripping the front of her jacket with his left hand and lifting till she was balanced on her toes, pinning her at arm’s length he raised his wrist and spoke into his com unit.

“Target Delta acquired. Converge on my location to assist in the search for Target Sierra.”

Darcy heard his words echo in her ear and she wondered how badly her head was damaged before she remembered the ear piece.

The reply came swift and eager.

“You have Delta sedated?”

“Subdued and restrained,” the man restraining her responded.

“Use the needle,” the other voice ordered. “Take no chances with her. Newman and Banks, rendezvous with me at the front entrance of that building, you can sweep for Sierra from there. Michaels and Adar, approach from the rear. See if you can figure out what happen to the others and then assist with the search from that direction. Rollins will stay with the van and coordinate with the extraction team.”

Metal Arm Guy used his free hand to reach into a pocket and pull out a small case. It looked like the kind of box that usually held jewelry or perhaps a fancy pen. No such luck, for her, though. He pulled out a familiar looking syringe and tossed the box before pulling off the cap on the needle with his teeth.

Darcy wanted to sag under the weight of defeat, but she didn’t want to give this guy the satisfaction. Still, it she felt hopelessness creeping in. It was only a matter of time before the found Skye and then…

Skye!

“Hey, asshole! Let go of my sister!”


	5. Chapter 5

Skye had lain in her small hole and felt the world tilt around her. Her arms and legs, pressed close as they were by the mattresses on both sides of her had swung through arcs of numbness, tingling, and feeling as though they were trying to float off of her body. Her head had swum through a swamp of cotton and run through spider webs of silk and twine.  
There were sounds, muffled and vague, but she knew they had to be important somehow and so she focused on them with all her might.  
The twisting around her settled and her head began to clear. She gripped her hand tight around something solid that felt comforting and familiar against her palm. That’s when she heard Darcy’s shout, loud and abrupt, cut off just as quickly. There were crashing noises and the sound of wood and metal breaking.  
“Darcy…” Skye whispered and pushed her arms over her head. She managed to drag herself from her hidey hole and even got to her feet with only a moderate amount of staggering. The sounds of fighting had moved farther away and she stumbled towards them, her shoulder leaning heavily against the shelves as she walked.  
At the end of the row she pushed off and walked across a small open area as her slightly blurry vision cleared and she was able to make out the scene before her. Some guy was holding Darcy immobilized against a forklift while he talked into his wrist. She glanced around, looking for other attackers, or a weapon, for a grasp on what was happening.  
As her fist tightened in anger and frustration, she realized she still had her X2 in her hand. She still had one cartridge left.  
She walked forward slowly, putting herself within range of the man threatening Darcy. Her head was clearing more and more as her body surged with adrenaline. Once she was close enough she raised the Taser and aimed at the guys back. He was reaching into his pocket for a box from which he removed a syringe.  
Skye took a deep breath. It was now or never.  
“Hey, asshole! Let go of my sister!”  
The guy turned towards her and she finally got a good look at his arm. It was shiny and dangerous looking, and Skye finally understood how one guy could have gotten the upper hand on Darcy, something she had thought highly improbable before this moment.  
It was the Winter Soldier. One of Alexander Peirce’s most guarded and prized Hydra Assets, one of the many secret things she and Darcy had managed to uncover in their quest to out the evil organization. If she hesitated, they were as good as caught.  
She fired.  
He was just as fast, faster then she’d thought possible. He released Darcy and raised his arm to block her shot. If she’d been firing a regular gun, he would have deflected her attack and been on her in a second.  
As it turned out, 15 million volts was just the thing for taking down an assassin with a cybernetic arm. The prongs of the cartridge, one in his wrist, the other just below his elbow, sent the current into that wonder of metal and machine and started wreaking havoc. The electrical sparks danced along the segments of his arm and arched up into his shoulder.  
He tilted his head back as his body went ridged with contracting muscles and let out a soul-cleaving howl from between grinding teeth. Skye pushed down any sympathy she might have felt for the man and kept on the trigger.  
Behind him, Darcy righted herself and then reached up and grabbed his right arm, the one holding the syringe. She shoved with all her might, the leather of his jacket insulating her from the current running through him as she forced his arm down and the point of the needle into his thigh. She hit the plunger faster then was medically advisable, but the guy wasn’t exactly in a position to complain, at least, not about that little sting. He had bigger problems.  
“Skye!” Darcy yelled, stepping back and waving her over, “We have to go. More are coming.”  
Skye released the trigger ceasing the flow of electricity and ejected the cartridge. She shoved her X2 back in its pocket in her pants and rushed over to Darcy. She was limping only slightly, and her eyes and forehead were tight, like she was in pain, but Darcy shrugged it off as she grabbed Skye’s hand and pulled her towards the back wall.  
Darcy eyed the twitching, collapsed figure on the floor, but seemed satisfied when he didn’t get up, or even move in any way that could be classified as voluntary, after several seconds.  
“We need to get the bags,” Darcy said slammed her hand against a large button that started raising the large bay door closest to them. It was loud, but that couldn’t be helped. Outside it was now full dark. She rolled under the door as soon as it was high enough to get under and waved at Skye to follow.  
“There, the bags are under that trailer,” Skye said pointing as she kept her eyes on the lookout for company.  
“Stay close,” Darcy grunted as she jumped down to the parking lot below.  
In less than a minute they had their things and were heading for the northwest corner of the lot. Using a large dumpster and some stacked crates then were up and over the 6’ wall and out of sight before anymore goons managed to show up.  
Darcy took a second to get her bearings, and Skye put a hand on her shoulder. “You good?” she asked as her sister grimaced and rubbed the bridge of her nose.  
Darcy gave her a bitter smile. “Good enough.”  
“We need to move, put some distance between us,” she said, adjusting her grip on her laptop bag and shifting her backpack to her other shoulder. The escape plan they’d had set up called for them to head north, across the street and to a large parking lot where they could locate and acquire a getaway vehicle. It was their best bet. She took a step to move in that direction when Darcy’s hand come up and grabbed onto her upper arm.  
“Wait, Skye,” Darcy said, her voice mildly strained. “I think… I think I we need to change our plans.”  
“What?” Skye asked, “Why? They’re right on our tail, Darcy, we need to get out of here. You’re in no shape to take them on, and I’m hardly any help in the combat department. We gotta go!”  
“We gotta finish this…” Darcy said, sounding desperate and weary. It was not a good combination. “I think I might know how to do that…”  
“Now?” Skye asked. “No, we retreat and regroup, like we planned, like we always do.”  
“And look how that’s worked out for us so far,” Darcy said, her eyes pleading. “We have to face facts, Skye. They’re never going to give up, and next time we might not get so lucky. We need to end this tonight. That data you’re trying to break encryption on, the one that we’re going to have to start all over on? I can give you one better. You’re trying to locate a Hydra mainframe. Well, I think I might know where one is. Right now. And it’s not well guarded at the moment, but if we’re going to do it, we have to do it now.”  
“What? Where?”  
“On the radio, Rumlow said that Rollins was going to stay with the van and coordinate with the extraction team.” Darcy started, but Skye cut her off.  
“All the more reason to get out of here. It’s probably only a matter of minutes before there are even more Hydra guys swarming in here.”  
“Yeah, look, I know it’s a risk, okay, but just listen to me,” Darcy growled, trying to keep her voice to a whisper. “That van is going to have access to Hydra’s data network. If we can highjack it, we’ll have everything we need to get the word out on them. And Rollins is a totally pussy. I know I can take him, even with a concussion and a bruised knee.”  
Skye knew Darcy was hiding more injuries then that. She also knew her sister had had worse, and that she had probably already started healing. It was one of the only upsides of being one of Alexander Peirce’s science project guinea pigs.  
If she could hook right into one of their data points she could have her specially tailored Trojan virus uploaded and doing its job in a matter of minutes. The USB in the special pocket of her bra was just waiting for the right port. Darcy was right. It was too good a chance to pass up.  
“Where do we go?”  
Darcy shot her a relieved smile and pulled her back the other way. “If I know Rumlow, and I do, though, admittedly, not as well as you do,” Skye rolled her eyes at this, “then the van will be somewhere close. Out of the way, probably in an alley or abandoned lot, and I think I know which direction he was coming from.”  
“Then let’s go.” Skye switched her laptop bag to her other hand and followed Darcy, keeping her head down and her back to the wall. “Double or nothing,” she muttered, trailing her sister right into the lion’s den, just like old times.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was swimming in pain. His head and chest weighed down with nerve-bursting agony. He tried to move, and each contracted muscle fiber and bending joint caused more waves of searing torment to roll over him.  
Without even having to think about it his consciousness moved to a quiet place in his mind and the pain became a muted, distant thing that he could handle. He moved slowly, pushing onto all fours and then going to his knees. By placing a hand on the large metal object (some kind of machine with wheels) he was able to get to his feet. It took a minute for him to focus through the dizziness and become steady on his feet.  
There was still a heavy quality to his limbs, a certain haze of grey tingles around his vision that he knew meant he was recovering from being drugged, but he hadn’t the foggiest idea where that little tidbit of information had come from. It was a vaguely familiar feeling, though.  
He eyed his surroundings, going on alert as much as his clouded state of mind would allow. He was in a large building, some kind of storage facility with row upon row of crates and boxed goods. It was dark. He was standing next to a row of the wheeled vehicles.  
He glanced down and noticed there was some kind of wiring or conductive filament tangled around his arm and leg. He brushed it off slowly, carefully. His left arm was made entirely of metal. This fact, he thought distantly, should have surprised him. It didn’t.  
His clothes were black, leather and some kind of cotton blend, comfortable enough, and very functional. He had lots of pockets. He also had lots of weapons.  
His hand moved with a surety all its own as he reached down and un-holstered a hand gun (Sig-Sauer P226 his brain supplied) from his left hip. His hands moved through the motions and his brain followed slowly after. He checked the chamber and the magazine (9mm 15 rounds). It felt comfortable in his hand, as he held it firmly, his finger on the trigger guard.  
Behind him he heard noise. Through a large open door way he could see several men approaching. He turned, ducking down and leaning against the large wheel of the vehicle. He listened, his grip on the hand gun tightening as he heard them hoist themselves up into the building.  
One of them was talking as they approached. “…Hansen is dead. Vasquez, Darby, and Stevens are all going to need to medical, sir. I have Shanburg watching Darby and Stevens, Lincoln is with me and Michaels. We’re in the warehouse now.” There was a pause then, “No sign of the Asset and target Delta, sir. What’s your 20?”  
He glanced quickly around the corner and saw three men, one of them rather worse for the wear, all heavily armed and dressed in black. The one that was speaking appeared to be using some kind of communications device on his wrist.  
Were they military? Some kind of special operations law enforcement?  
He didn’t know them. He didn’t even know himself. The part of him that did know things, though, knew they were a threat. They moved cohesively, as a unit, with the deliberate and efficient kind of movement he was able to read as dangerous.  
“Copy that, sir,” the one doing all the talking said. “Michaels, take that side, Lincoln, you’re down the center.”  
It sounded like they were searching. Searching for what, though? Or whom? Where these men hunting him? The part of him that seemed to know things left him with a big fat blank on the subject. What he did know was that he had woken up here, in the dark, in pain and with no memory of how he’d gotten there or who he was. He wasn’t going to be taking any chances.  
He listened to the footsteps of the men as they moved around. When one of them walked around the end of the row and into his line of site he moved quickly and ruthlessly. He raised the gun and shot the first guy in the face. Then he stood and turned, putting two in the back of the next closest guy. The man was wearing protective armor, so the shots weren’t fatal, but he was down on the ground.  
The third guy had spun around with the sound of the first shot and had time to take cover.  
“Shit! We’re taking fire! We’ve got hostiles!”  
The third man fired from cover, using an assault rifle (HK416), but he was already down and moving around the other end, working his way closer to the two men from the front of the row of machines. He moved on adrenaline and instinct, pulling a knife from a sheath on his back.  
When he located the downed man, he moved swiftly, without hesitation and opened his carotid with a brutal slash as he was trying to rise.  
From down one of the aisles he heard the pounding of feet approaching rapidly. He ducked into the closest row and moved into the shadows, taking cover behind a stack of boxes.  
Did he flee, or did he fight? His instincts were conflicted. He simply lacked the necessary data to make an informed decision.  
He felt at his waist and, without knowing how he knew it would be there, gripped a small round explosive device. He triggered the countdown (10 seconds) and rolled it back the way he’d come.  
Then he started melting backwards, moving down the shadows toward the far end of the row. He froze when he heard steps behind him. Turning slowly, his motion even and non-threatening, he came face to face with another man, dressed just like the others, with just as many weapons.  
He was tall, dark haired, and scowling.  
“Asset! Report!” he snapped, stepping closer.  
He could only frown at the man. Asset? Was that him?  
“Where is the girl? You said you had her subdued. Who the hell is taking out my team?”  
He hadn’t seen any girl, and he didn’t remember ever speaking to this man before. He could answer the last question, though.  
“I am,” he whispered. The man’s eyes widened with dawning realization as he raised his gun.  
That’s when the air behind him exploded.


	6. Chapter 6

The van wasn’t in the first alley that they looked. It was in the second. Darcy motioned for Skye to stay back and stay hidden while she approached. There was no one in the driver’s or passenger’s seats, and the shadows and darkness obscured her view of anything farther in. She crept around closer, and pressed her back to the front bumper as she listened, leaning around to place an ear against one door.  
After several breaths she locked into the low, murmuring sound of someone’s voice inside. The vehicle was pretty well sound tight, but her enhanced senses were able to detect one male voice, tone calm, cadence professional.  
She stayed crouched down as she moved down the side, careful not to rub against the van, but staying closer to it than the wall. It had sliding side doors that opened on the passenger side only. She sent one glance back in Skye’s direction as she weighed her odds. Locked or not?  
She tightened her grip on Lady Sig and took a deep breath. They didn’t have a whole lot of time before Rumlow and his crew found their unconscious buddy and figured out they had given them the slip. She sidled down the side of the van and reached around to knock on the double doors at the back. Moving quickly she went back to the side door and tried the handle.  
The amount of give suggested it wasn’t locked. She wasted no time and jerked the door open, her enhanced strength causing the metal brackets to screech appallingly. Rollins whipped around from where he’d been glaring at the back doors, his hand gun coming up, but she was faster. She tackled him to the floor of the van and knocked his gun away.  
He tried to get his arms around her, but she leaned away and started raining blows down on his head. He was forced to a defensive position that kept her from turning his face into hamburger. She grabbed his wrists with both hands and shoved them against his face with all her body weight. When he changed tactics and pushed away, trying to twist his arms in her grasp to grab her forearms she threw his arms out wide and then punched him square in the nose again.  
Rollins shouted in pain and surprise and she leaned back and gripped the front of his vest, jerking him up into a sitting position. Two seconds later she was kneeling behind him with one arm around his neck and the other pinning it her hand against her shoulder in a perfect sleeper hold.  
He struggled for about 6 seconds before going limp. She waited an extra 4 seconds and then released him. Darcy rolled him onto his stomach and cuffed him with the hand cuffs clipped to his belt. It took her another dozen seconds or so to drag him out of the van by his heels. There weren’t a lot of hiding places close by, so she simply rolled him under the van and then waved to Skye.  
“Let’s go, Skye,” she said as Skye climbed in and she closed the door behind her, the mechanism complaining, but still functioning. “You do you, I’m gonna see about getting us out of here.”  
Skye nodded and sat at the panel of technical equipment lining one side of the van. She reached into her bra and extracted the USB drive, inserting it after a reverent pause into one of the open slots on the front of a computer tower.  
Darcy moved to the front, climbing into the driver’s seat and doing a quick, but thorough search of the likely places for keys. It figured that Hydra protocol didn’t include leaving the keys to one of their vehicles sitting on the sun visor.  
“The hard way it is,” she muttered and reached down to pry open the panel under the steering column. The sight that met her eyes was a nasty surprise, which, she supposed, was pretty par for the course when it came to Hydra.  
The normal wires and electrical systems of a standard car had been replaced with some rather futuristic-tech looking circuit boards and blinking lights. Nothing looked familiar, or even vaguely recognizable.  
“Skye!” Darcy shouted, her eyes glued to the mystifying internal workings of the van’s panel. “I’m gonna need a little help here.”  
“Just a second,” Skye shouted back. She had that half-distracted tone that meant her mind wasn’t working in English anymore, but binary, or html, or maybe 64-bit, or whatever language it was computer geeks spoke now a days. Darcy wasn’t fluent, like Skye. She could barely say hello and ask for the bathroom. Still, that’s why they made the perfect team.  
She was making her way into the back again when her ear-piece kicked on again.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Agent Rumlow, sir.”  
“Go ahead, Newman.”  
“We’ve managed to located the other men. Hansen is dead. Vasquez, Darby, and Stevens are all going to need to medical, sir. I have Shanburg watching Darby and Stevens, Lincoln is with me and Michaels. We’re in the warehouse now.”  
“I’m in,” Skye whispered, her fingers flying over the keyboard. Darcy held her breath and held up a finger to signal for silence.  
“No sign of the Asset and target Delta, sir. What’s your 20?”  
“We’re approaching the front door. Take your men and spread out. Start looking. We’ll rendezvous in the middle. Two minutes.” Darcy listened to Rumlow’s familiar voice and felt ice creep across her spine.  
“Copy that, sir.”  
Darcy felt her anxiety ratchet up and had to squash it down with a bad attempt at humor.  
“You’re boyfriend’s about to get a nasty surprise.” She said with an obvious leer and a nudge to Skye’s shoulder.  
Skye used her shoulder to nudge back and Darcy was pretty sure she could hear the eye-roll in the dark space. “Ex-boyfriend,” she grumbled and kept working.  
“Regardless, the clocks ticking and I’d rather postpone your…” her words cut off as she heard chaos erupt on the other end of her ear-piece again.  
“Shit! We’re taking fire! We’ve got hostiles!”  
Darcy scowled and put her hand over her ear, focusing intently on everything she could hear.  
There wasn’t anything else forthcoming, however, only silence.  
“What the hell…” Darcy snarled and knelt next to Skye’s chair.  
“What is it?” the other girl asked, turning as she caught onto Darcy’s worried tone.  
“I don’t know…” she said, frustration dripping off every word, “It sounds like someone else is attacking your ex and his goon squad, but that doesn’t make any sense.”  
Her eyes met her sisters as they both frowned at each other.  
“That would be a good thing, right?” Skye asked as her eyes moved back to the screen as she worked her hacker magic.  
Darcy could only frown and shake her head. “In theory, yeah, but this is… weird.”  
“Weird is sort of our MO, you know,” Skye said with a small chuckle. “It’s probably the cops or something. Maybe we set off an alarm.”  
“Maybe,” she agreed reluctantly. “Still, I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” She stood and gestured towards the front of the van. “I need you to look at something. How long till you’re done with… whatever it is you’re doing?”  
Skye grinned and typed even faster. “I’m… just… about… there,” she said triumphantly as she hit one final key. “I’ve made sure that the van’s self-destruct command is disabled and locked out Hydra HQ’s remote log-in access. That way they can’t shut me down once they realize that we’re here and figure out what we’re doing.”  
“You are scary freaking smart, you know that,” Darcy whispered.  
“I know, right?” Skye laughed.  
“And humble,” Darcy grinned back grimly. “You wanna figure out how to hot-wire this POS so we can get the hell outta dodge?”  
“I thought hot-wiring was one of your shadier skill-sets,” Skye said with a puzzled frown.  
Darcy waved at the exposed panel as Sky climbed into the driver’s seat. “Usually it is, but this is… well, It’s Hydra, so I don’t know what I was expecting, but it’s weird.”  
Skye bent over and examined the mess up close. “Looks like we’re going to need the key,” Skye said with a resigned sigh after several seconds. “It looks like their keys are set up with a low grade transponder chip that is required to bypass this anti-theft failsafe.”  
“Get the key, got it.” Darcy grunted as she opened the door and climbed out. She dragged Rollins out from under the van. He was starting to come around, it seemed, so she pressed her knuckles into his carotid until he stilled again. She searched his pockets, but came up empty.  
If Rollins didn’t have the keys then that meant they were probably with Rumlow.  
“Rollins!” the voice crackled over her earpiece with a burst of static and a sudden flood of heavy-rasping breathes. “Get HQ on the line. The Asset has gone rouge. The girls are gone; the rest of the team is down. We need that extraction team ASAP. I’m on route to your location now.”  
“Think of the devil,” Darcy muttered and shoved Rollins back under the van. Then she climbed back inside and watched as Skye went back to work on the computer terminal. “We’re about to have company. Stay here and don’t come out, no matter what.”  
“What are you going to do?”  
“I’m going to get that key…” Darcy said as she lifted the two smoke bombs out of her jacket pocket. “Promise me, Skye, if this goes sideways, you bail, with or without me.”  
Skye rolled her eyes. “I know the drill, Darcy.”  
“Damn it, Skye, I’m serious!”  
Skye actually stopped typing and turned around to look her sister in the face. She studied her face and was surprised to find flickers of fear in Darcy’s eyes. Which was ridiculous. Darcy wasn’t afraid of anything.  
“We’re too damn close. You have to do your thing no matter what. That comes first, okay.” Darcy was trying not to breathe hard. “I know how you are, Skye.”  
“Fine, fine, I promise, okay. Just get that key, or neither of us is going anywhere.” Skye turned back to her work.  
“Good.” Darcy sighed and stepped out of the van. “Besides, if they take me in, it’s going to be up to you to rescue me, after all.”  
“Ha ha,” Skye said as she heard the door screech shut behind her.  
Darcy pulled the pins on both grenades and tossed them, one to the front, and one to the back of the van. With a hiss, the air began to fill with thick white smoke. She moved into position and hoped that Rumlow had had a worse night then she had. Somehow, she doubted it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look out! More violence and language ahead.

Agent Brock Rumlow slowed from his sprint to a watchful trot as he came around the corner and in sight of the alley way where the van was parked. Ahead, through the darkness, he could see a swirling mass of fog obscuring the van’s location.  
He slid to a halt, raised his M4A1 and sighted down it into the mist of darkness. “What the hell…” he whispered and walked forward, now on full alert. “Rollins!” he hissed through his teeth and clicked on his com. “Rollins, where the fuck are you?”  
The smoke curled and twisted as it reached towards him. He waited a few seconds as the air cleared marginally and then walked forward. He had to get word to HQ about the Asset. He did not want to be standing around in the dark with that guy out here on the loose. Besides, he could see the outline of the van through the dissipating smoke. It was still there. Rollins couldn’t be far.  
When there was no response over the coms, and no sign of movement, other than the swirling of the clouded air, he tightened his grip on his weapon and crept forward. When he was within arm’s length of the van he leaned forward and pressed his face to the tinted window. The passenger and driver’s seats were empty.   
He inched forward again, his hands sweating and boots scuffing on the pavement quietly. Behind him, from where he’d come there was a loud sound, like a tin can rolling over asphalt or a clatter of tumbling debris. He jerked around and put his left shoulder against the van, his focus laser sharp and his eyes searching through the still wispy smoke and darkness.  
Someone behind him shoved his head into the van and pushed him forward. He caught his balance and whirled around, bringing his gun to bear, but the figure moved, lighting fast and shoved his rifle up and away. His few fired shots hit the brick wall and sent gritty fragments showering down on them.   
Rumlow caught the movement of long curls as they whipped through the air and a fist connected with his lower ribs. His momentary fear that he was being stalked and attacked by the Asset faded and his surprise and fear shattered under his relief. He let his trained conditioning take over.   
He reacted forcefully and violently, swinging his gun back down like a club and catching the girl across her right ear. She bounced off the van and then ducked down to slam her shoulder into his gut and shunted him back away from the van and into the open.  
He continued to use his M4A1 to strike her across her back and shoulders as she moved him back. He kept his balance and finally got his heels dug into the ground enough to stop their reverse momentum. Rumlow brought his knee up into her side and was pleasantly surprised by the grunt and gasp that followed.   
She pushed away from him then, her arm coming up to catch another blow from his weapon, one aimed for her face. He was close enough to see the snarl on her face now. Darcy, target Delta, was bleeding from several small wounds, and practically growling in his face as she brought out a knife, hidden in some pocket or sheath in her jacket and slashed it towards him.  
Agent Rumlow threw himself backwards, his body rippling just out of the range of the flashing blade as she swung and cut towards him again and again. He blocked and dodged and evaded, but damn, she was so fast. Even with the flight from the motel and the obvious beating she’d taken in the meantime she was still a vicious, beautiful weapon.   
She forced him onto the defensive, forced him to drop his rifle and then sent it spinning away with a flick of her knife through his chest strap. She made him take a step backwards as she slashed across his upper thigh, quickly as lighting, though the wound was shallow and only stung briefly before adrenaline and discipline thrust that distraction away.  
Finally, he managed to catch her wrist and forearms with both hands and twisted, turning her around and shoving up on her shoulder. He should have had her shoulder dislocated in half a heartbeat with that move, but she stepped with it. She twisted under him and threw her head back knocking him under the chin and he tasted blood in his mouth and felt his teeth threaten to shatter.   
Darcy’s left arm came around and her fist slammed into the side of his head, sending the sound of bells and echoes of bells ringing in his right ear. She continued her twisting, slithering motion and, in a move he never could have pulled off, and had her right arm free and her knee jamming up under his vest painfully.  
He cursed and grunted and jumped back again, trying to get distance between them. He readied for another violent assault, but Darcy held back, her eyes flicking over the ground. With a funny little backwards kick she sent something small and metal clattering over the ground towards the van.  
“Skye! Special delivery!” She yelled and then raised her eyes back up to his face. Her eyes were glittering with triumph.  
Behind her, the driver’s door swung open and Skye stepped out, reaching down to retrieve whatever Darcy had kicked to her.   
“Take him out, and let’s get out of here,” Skye shouted back as she climbed back into the van and started it up. Which she shouldn’t have been able to do without the key…  
He looked down at his pocket, the same pocket that held the only key for that van, the pocket that Darcy had sliced wide open with her sharp, wicked little knife.   
“You conniving little bitch,” he hissed part in surprise, part in anger, and yes, he could admit to himself, part in admiration.  
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Brock,” she said with a condescending sneer.   
Things slowed down for him then as he assessed and prepared. He knew Darcy couldn’t resist a chance to whip her wit about, using it as well as her fists or one of her knives, but the tightening around her eyes and the lowering of her center of gravity told him she was done with talk. She would give him no quarter, show him no mercy.  
Pierce had taught her well.  
He recognized that though she was smaller, she was also faster and stronger then he was, thanks to the enhancements she’d received from Hydra’s best and brightest. His only advantage would be that she appeared to be somewhat worse for the wear. He was a bit mussed, and would probably be sore come morning, but he was far from exhausted and his aches and pains were all very minor.  
As she stepped forward to launch her assault at him once more, he noticed she shifted her weight quickly off her left side. She was holding up well, but she was clearly injured. He was betting knee or ankle.   
In a split second he had completed his assessment and chosen his best course of action. As she charged him, he dropped down, leaned back, and kicked out at her with his left leg.   
The sweep caught her mid-shin and she stumbled with a cry of pain and a wrenching pop. She turned her fall into a semi-graceful tumble, coming upon her right knee and keeping her left leg held carefully off the ground. Even with her enhancements in strength and pain suppression the tension on agony lined every inch of her face.  
“Darcy!” Skye yelled and opened the van door to climb out. Rumlow spun around to face her and took a step in her direction.   
“No!” Darcy leaped at him, tackling him around the knees and dropping him to the ground with a grunt. “Skye, get out of here!” she pulled herself up over the Hydra agent’s thrashing, prone form and started hammering him with her fists.  
Skye watched her sister roll on the ground with him and hesitated. She needed a weapon. She scrambled for her taser, not sure where it was at first and then feeling it in her pants pocket. She pulled it out and pointed it at the wrestling duo.  
It was no good, though, for two very solid reasons. She had spent both her cartridges already, and even if she hadn’t, there was no way she could get a shot at Rumlow without hitting her sister, too.  
The rolled and fought, their hands clenched and their legs kicking. Finally, they came to a screaming halt as Rumlow pinned Darcy’s bad leg against the ground with a knee and bore down with all his weight. Her entire body went ridged with pain and she arched off the pavement with a choked out howl.  
With the speed and precision of a man trained in all the ways to hurt and kill, he had her restrained. Rumlow’s arm was around neck, pinning her to his chest while his other arm neutralized her hands. He had one leg curled over her hip, restraining her left leg and putting painful pressure on it whenever she tried to twist from his grip.  
Skye watched in horror as he neatly incapacitated Darcy. Still, it was a sort of stale mate. If only she could get another weapon, or one of her extra cartridges… She knew there were more in Darcy’s duffel in the back of the van.  
“It’s over, Skye,” Rumlow growled at her, his voice still strained from his struggles, though not as much as she would have liked. “Your sister is beat and we both know you aren’t the kind of girl that can just run off and leave her here, helpless and hurt… Not your precious Darcy.” He snarled that last word with a special kind of venom. He’d never like Darcy much.  
“Yes you can, Skye!” Darcy chocked and met her stare. Even with the man on her back, tightening his hold on her throat and the pain from her injuries jolting through her body, she managed to give Skye a steady look with her brilliant blue eyes. “You… promised…”  
The young hacker felt her entire body lock up with indecision and helplessness.  
“Bravo to Zulu” Dacy choked and then her eyes closed as she finally lost consciousness.  
“Fuck!” Skye swore and jumped back in the van. Rumlow was already rolling Darcy over and reaching for his cuffs. Skye slammed the door and wrenched the gear shift into reverse. She hit the gas and jolted backwards, flying down the alleyway as Brock scrambled for his discarded gun and raised it quickly to spray the front of her fleeing vehicle. She grazed the corner of a dumpster and it bounced off the wall and between her and the oncoming bullets.   
When she hit the main street, (she sent up a quick word of thanks that the roads were fairly empty in this part of town), and twisted the wheel before yanking the transmission into drive and peeled off.   
She slammed her hands against the steering wheel as she watched for pursuit in her rear view mirror while spitting a stream of expletives both thorough and creative. She needed to get some distance between her and the Hydra agent, and then she needed a plan. It was going to have to be a good one.

******************************************************************************************************************************************

The shadowy three dimensional hologram of the councilman from India was strenuously arguing in favor of sending in a team of agents from S.H.I.E.L.D. to investigate rumors of increased activity in the Bangladeshi militant group Jamaat-ul-Mujahideen when Peirce’s PA announced he had an urgent call from Strike Team Leader Rumlow.  
He made quiet apologies and stepped from the room quickly, his pulse increasing slightly as he entered his office and locked the door behind him. He strode purposefully to his desk and picked up the phone, moving around to sit as he said, “Tell me you’re calling with good news, Agent Rumlow.”  
“Sir, there’s been some complications.”  
“What complications? Did you get the girls or not?”  
“I have Target Delta into custody, sir, but Target Sierra managed to get away in one of our surveillance vans.”  
Pierce let that sink in for a second before responding. “She stole one of our vehicles? Do you realize the kind of damage Skye is capable of causing with all she can access from one of our vans?!”  
“Yes, sir, I do.” Rumlow said, his voice controlled, but tension still apparent in his tone. “There’s more, sir.”  
“Oh do tell, I’d like to know how this situation could possibly get any worse.” His mind was already trying to sort through the best way to do damage control on the Skye situation when Rumlow’s next words caused his thought processes to screech to a halt. He had to ask the voice on the other end of the phone to repeat himself.  
“The asset has turned rouge, sir.”  
“That’s what I thought you said,” Pierce replied, his definition of impossible having to shift in his mind he asked, “What happened?”  
“I’m not sure, sir. One second he was reporting that target Delta was in custody, the next he was taking out most of my men. Strike Team is down to me and two other guys still on our feet. Rollins is coordinating with the extraction team right now to bring in Darcy, and Shanburg is watching the wounded and doing damage control on site, but I’m going to need more man power if you want us to hunt down Skye and the Asset.”  
Triage. Priorities. The ruthlessly efficient mind of Alexander Pierce kicked into high gear as his strategy acumen worked its wonders. Despite being limited by having to keep this in Hydra’s house, as it were, instead of utilizing all of S.H.I.E.L.D’s resources, he quickly worked through the best possible solution.  
“Keep your focus on Skye. Take your remaining men and coordinate with Transportation Requisitions. They should have some way of tracking the vehicle. I’ll get on the horn and get a recovery team on the Asset. He won’t get too far with the trackers on him. My people have ways of bringing him to heel. You just try and stay out of his way, for now. I’ll have a cleaning crew dispatched to take care of the casualties. I don’t suppose you managed to keep off the local authorities’ radar?”  
“So far, but we did make a lot of noise. I don’t know how long that will remain the case.”  
“You might have to leave Shanburg on site for now. He’ll have to join you when the cleaners arrive. Also, coordinate with Sitwell to keep an eye out for cyber attacks. We need to keep an eye out for any trouble Skye is trying to stir up and he can access the tech department and keep his ear to the ground.”  
“Yes, sir,” Rumlow responded.  
“I’m counting on your to bring Skye down, Agent. Do not underestimate her ability to cause trouble for Hydra, especially now that we have Darcy in custody. Hopefully, she’ll be distracted with trying to get her sister back. If she is, we can use that to our advantage, but I wouldn’t count on it.” At this point the councilman paused. “What is the status of target Delta?”  
The agent on the other end of the line hesitated only briefly before answering. “Unconscious for now. I haven’t had time to assess the extent of her injuries, but she didn’t go down without a fight, sir. Even after her encounter with the Asset she still managed to give me a run for my money. If he hadn’t wounded her, I’m not sure I would have been able to subdue her.”  
It took a lot for Rumlow to admit that out loud, and Alexander felt a sudden, and unexpected, swelling of pride as the voice on the line continued.  
“I’m sure with her enhancements, she’ll be back up to fighting speed in a few days, sir,” Rumlow continued.  
“I’m sure she will,” Secretary Peirce murmured. “Let’s just make sure we have her back under control by then. Tell Rollins I want her transported to the facility in Silver Spring.”  
“Silver Spring, sir? You’re going to put her in the chair?”  
Pierce frowned with resignation as he replied. “I don’t really have any choice. Darcy and Skye will both have to go in. That’s the only way I’m ever going to truly get my daughters back. They’ll have to forget everything they ever learned about Hydra.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As they say... the plot thickens... duh duh duh!


End file.
